


A heart lost to darkness

by LinaLuthor



Series: Stars in the night sky [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dorothea really tries and loves her girls, F/F, Multi, Polyamory, Silver Snow Route, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaLuthor/pseuds/LinaLuthor
Summary: Dorothea and Petra watch as Edelgard slowly starts drifting away from them, something that ends up hapenning no matter how much they try to keep her close.The attack on the Holy Tomb offers an explanation as to why this has been going on, their hearts aching with that revelation.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg/Petra Macneary, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Petra Macneary
Series: Stars in the night sky [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085051
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	A heart lost to darkness

The first time Dorothea had laid eyes on Garreg Mach it reminded her of a fortress more than a monastery. Towers and turrets reached up into the sky as if calling for the goddess that supposedly resided there, the cathedral most of all with its grandiose banners, stone and stained glass shining under the sun and moonlight as seasons passed and years went by.

She would have lied if she said she hadn’t been impressed, even though she had seen paintings of the amazing place and heard enough to expect nothing but splendor, the finest and most well crafted building made with faith and devotion. Those were words and concepts that had once been part of her life, during the few years she had belonged to a noble house while her bastard of a father waited for her crest to manifest. Back then there had been prayers, religious teachings, some form of schooling.

That was, before everything crumbled when she was too old to not have shown a crest and the nobles saw her and her mother as traitors, nothing more than useless commoners that had made their way up by favor and a pretty face. Hence the two were properly disposed of and everything that Dorothea had equated to love, to care and respect turned into dust.

There had been no fight because her mother protected child Dorothea, yet her heart bled with the words which were thrown her way, the new reality they were forced to withstand. The wounds became tears that ceaselessly washed her face, washed the emerald in her irises without truly taking away the pain. They ran even more when her mom was no more and she saw herself alone, unwanted, uncared for. 

They ran even more until there was nothing but pain in her heart, to the point that future promises of love once she joined the Mittelfrank were accepted with a derisive laugh. By then Dorothea knew that she would be discarded again, once she had no more use to those nobles who professed their undying devotion to the so-called mystical songstress. By then she had learned to push them away, to not let anyone else see the true her. 

To play the part of the charming, coy mystical songstress they loved so much while trying to make sure she would never be sent back to the hell that had been her life on the streets. Even if that meant staying in character for so long she might forget herself.

Even if that meant never finding what others actually meant when they composed all the songs she sang about undying, unconditional love.

And so she had gone on through life until the Mittelfrank turned into an empty place of empty lives and words that had become even more meaningless as time went by. Her childish dream of performing was then crushed by the harshness of reality, a reality that Manuela had noticed long ago when she, too, abandoned Dorothea and left her after some season or another had ended.

Likewise, there was no way Thea would be able to make her life in that place. Not when younger, better singers started showing up and she realized her place would be challenged soon. That she would no longer get important roles, but mostly those of mothers and secondary characters once she changed.

And when her voice was no more… when it was of no more use to the directors and spectators that had one day applauded her so fiercely and declared that their love would be eternal…

Instead of thinking Dorothea acted, following her mentor into the Officers Academy after much studying and pondering. What was there for her to lose? At the least she could get a proper education and show the horrible nobles that had tried stepping down on her that commoners were people, that they could and would be as good as the rich and powerful.

At the most she would find a nice suitor who could make sure she never returned to the streets again, was never forgotten or forced to go through hard times. She had long ago given up on love anyways, so that was no longer an issue. Maybe it was something other people could have and enjoy; those who were luckier, who had been blessed by a goddess that had seen fit to forget her altogether.

That had been her mindset for too long, her heart beating for nobody, her mind unenchanted by empty words. It was reinforced as she made herself at home in the monastery, her classroom and her classmates, the Black Eagles that also hailed from the Empire and were mostly all nobles. The second she realized that was the case she braced herself against the onslaught, the derisive, condescending stares, the fact that maybe one or all of them had heard of her father.

So she was more than surprised when that didn’t happen. When she was seen as an equal and cherished as one of their own in and outside of battles. And even more so the second both the Adrestian and Brigidian princesses stuck to her side and not so they could “help” her navigate that world, but as friends who wanted to know more about her.

They showed time and again that they were interested in the real Dorothea Arnault, not the character that she had been playing for a long time. So long, at first she had asked herself if she weren’t just echoing all the songs she had ever sang about love, about feeling something for someone else - or in this case, for two others.

That maybe she was imagining things once her heart stirred in response to their smiles and laughter, with a feeling that was warm and golden, not cold and falsely gilded. With something that made her want to reach out instead of pretend nothing was going on, or that she wasn’t experiencing something different and new, emotions she had never thought she would ever have in her entire life.

Emotions that went beyond the notion of life and death, of surviving a world that was cold and harsh as her child self had gotten to experience firsthand, instead of warm and soft as people usually portrayed it to be.

Their relationship had started as mere friendship, with Edelgard and Petra finding good sparring partners and companions in each other while hanging out after class on the training grounds, or doing homework in the library since Edie was more than happy to assist with language and so on - though Petra was an incredible writer, always hoping to learn and improve. Dorothea had more or less tagged along in the beginning, since she was too tired of going on stupid dates with awful men that meant less to her than the thieves she would dispose of in the battlefield. For the longest time she had thought her presence was unnecessary even though she was included in discussions, in strategy and decision-making. 

In studying for exams once these arrived, both girls more than eager to let themselves be healed by her, when she struggled to master the faith magic that professor Byleth had been trying so hard to teach her throughout the last few weeks. They would come to her after training with real weapons, then offer small cuts and bruises for her to patch (some of which had been inflicted on purpose so she would have something to heal, she would find out later). 

And somewhere between practices, the strange developments within and around the monastery, the mysteries of the Death Knight and the Flame Emperor, the three found themselves growing closer and closer, protecting each other more and more as battles went by. Until the day, or the night after a mission in which they met by the lake after dinner, sat on the ground in front of it and confessed their feelings for the other two. The love that came with the fear of losing, of not being able to protect. The wish to help and accompany, to hold and kiss and cherish.

They had kissed in that nondescript night and in many others, helping and soothing each other when things got tense again. They had carved their own moments together among the chaos of their monastery lives, fleeing from the White Heron ball to meet in the Goddess Tower - and once there, they exchanged kisses and words and vows that everything would be fine, that they would be together and face it all. 

Maybe that was the first time that Dorothea noticed something, a shadow or a fleeting darkness that fell over Edelgard’s face at those promises. Yet she had chalked it off to how gloomy their setting was, how the candlelight wasn’t falling in those lilac eyes she loved so much. Even if later on Petra asked her about it, commenting something or another about “the specter that loomed over our Elle back in the tower of the Goddess”.

Even if the signs were all there from the beginning, only growing stronger after students were turned into demonic beasts and the professor lost her father as well. 

Even if their suspicions became even clearer when the professor returned from the darkness, the abyss that none should survive.

By then the entire monastery was on edge, unsure of how that year would end. There was something strange in the air, some sort of premonition that left everyone tense and jumpy, silent and pondering. That was definitely the case with Edelgard, whose bright smiles had faded and warm hugs had turned cold, stony.

Her lilac eyes, which used to light up in love and affection for Dorothea and Petra, had turned dull, too focused on something that was entirely in her mind in order to actually pay attention to the two that had made her entire year way more enjoyable than she had ever thought it would be. She would make excuses not to stay with them after class, whereas a few months ago she would be the one to find reasons to be together at times. She would let go of their hands if one or both of them tried holding on to her. The kisses had stopped long ago, the hugs soon following suit.

And regardless of how many times Petra and Dorothea told Edelgard that she was safe, that they loved her and wanted to know what was wrong, how they could help, the only answer they would get was a flat “there is nothing wrong, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Despite the fact that Petra stayed around Dorothea even more than before, they still mourned after their third that had distanced herself without any reason that they could tell. The two would exchange soft kisses and gentle words in the morning while sharing a bed, yet their lips would search for Edelgard’s, their eyes missing a touch of lilac that had balanced the emeralds and magentas of their gazes. Their hands would fumble for another until they recalled that was over, that it had been over for a while.

That it had been over without an explanation and even when they smiled at each other, Dorothea and Petra would look down at the floor and wonder what had happened. Thea had lost count of how many times she had asked herself what she had done wrong, only for Petra to envelop her in a tight hug and whisper that it hadn’t been her. That she had done nothing and the shadows in her heart hadn’t been the reason why Elle had gone away. 

That maybe there was darkness outside that had something to do with it all.

Yet the night in which the Black Eagles were supposed to descend to the Holy Tomb while accompanying their professor, Edelgard’s demeanor had changed once more, though not enough so they could say a reconciliation was on the way. The princess had stayed a little closer to them during the day, helping Dorothea with a questionnaire or another that they were supposed to be working at during classes. For the first time in months they had lunch together, even if Edie ate little and still looked more at the dining hall than at them; when her irises settled on them there had been emotion in them. 

Something that they couldn’t read until later on, after the two princesses had sparred in the training grounds one more time and had left it smiling, Dorothea effortlessly healing their wounds with a proud beam on her lips. Something that was echoed on the way that Edelgard was gazing at them right then, as they got nearer and nearer the cathedral.

In the dark night that had started getting colder again as the year was turning towards winter, Edie’s eyes shone with a quiet apology and a thousand unshed tears which glittered more than the stars in the sky above them. 

The building standing far ahead of the dais held more fear than promises of comfort and redemption, the rocks glistening in a dull way when lit by candles and torches both from within and around it. There was nothing but silence around the students, who were walking in a cluster behind their professor, the woman who guided them in sure steps, the torch she was holding casting eerie lights on her now green hair. Dorothea knew she seemed to be an ethereal being like that, framed by fire and night and an energy that was all hers, one that had taken over her eyes more than the mint hue ever would. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when a gloved hand rubbed against hers, then after a second of hesitation she squeezed and encased it, the material soft on Dorothea’s palm. The taller girl turned to look at the princess that sauntered beside her and again found nothing but guilt in the lavender eyes that she adored; somehow it made her grow sad, even though she realized that Edelgard was also holding Petra’s hand while they paced through the monastery. 

Dorothea couldn’t shake the feeling that the pain and the apology she had seen were even stronger this time around and no, it wasn’t an effect of the light and the tension that had taken them over in the last few days. It had made her heart lurch with cold, to the point that she almost stole her girls from that cluster and took them somewhere, anywhere in which Edie would feel comfortable enough to explain what had occurred and caused her to react in that way.

Sure, she knew they were marching to a sacred mission, something important that was far beyond the matters of love and loss that she and Petra were experiencing. But that could wait - the world had to wait if it meant she would have answers. Even if those answers could hurt her, confirm that it had been her fault at some point. 

That there was no darkness and the shadows had been enough to scare the princess away.

“Edie -” she began as they eventually arrived at the cathedral, having put the monastery and the dais behind them. The Officers Academy was but a distant dream right then, even more so as they continued marching onwards. 

The Adrestian princess didn’t answer, but shook her head with a saddened expression. Almost as if she knew what was about to be said. Almost as if she knew there would be no time to answer - or that the answer would be clear soon enough.

“We have been missin- we have missed you, Elle,” Petra whispered instead, the words gentle instead of accusing, light and not dark, though she too had shown her displeasure with the situation by working extra harder, making sure there was no moment left free so she could ponder over what was happening. 

There was nothing to keep her away from those thoughts then, not after a day in which they had been closer than ever and during a night in which they were walking side by side, hand in hand. 

A night that became many times brighter when a small voice replied, “me too. I have missed you greatly.”

They turned somewhere around the corner, behind the cathedral or so it seemed. Rhea had joined them with a smile at some point of the trajectory that the former songstress couldn’t recall, her mind focused on the new, fleeting changes she could see happening in that moment, right beside her.

So close to her grasp, yet so far in some way that she couldn’t fathom, though she knew her asking any further questions would be useless no matter how much they burned within herself. Though she knew, as they started descending a flight of stony steps hidden under a nondescript stone tile, that they had no more time to do anything of the sorts.

There was nothing but darkness and a chilly wind around them for a while since the archbishop had asked Byleth to put off the fire on the torch, that she would guide them down. It was all too mysterious and she could hear some of her classmates tittering, commenting on why there was so much secrecy around the place they were going. Her hands squeezed Edelgard’s a lot stronger than before since she had felt them slipping away from her palms, the worst thing that could happen in such a setting.

She no longer could bear the thought of being left alone in the dark. 

Suddenly a light became visible; a weak, green one that still gave them a sense of direction as they descended the last few steps and emerged into a place that looked older than civilization itself. The entire place was done in silver tiles and illuminated by weak, interesting green lights located around what at first glance looked like monuments in darker stone, displayed in neat lines on a lower portion of the room.

On each ends of the room stood raised platforms with different passageways and in the front of the staircase they had just come from was a throne, a simple seat in stone slabs with designs on the back. Yet regardless of how simple it was, something about it called everyone’s attention at once, even before Rhea could explain that they were in the Holy Tomb, a place that was kept hidden from the monastery staff and only a few had access to. 

It was in that state that Dorothea dimly noted some things had changed. That a small voice had whispered “please, forgive me” before she felt a slight loss of warmth, while Rhea asked Byleth if she recalled that throne, then said with something voracious in her tone that she was supposed to sit on it and receive a revelation like Seiros had done. Something about the setting was wrong even before the professor acquiesced, even before she felt nothing different and shook her head at a desolate Rhea.

Even before the sounds of a thousand steps cut through the quietness of the tomb and a voice, one that made Dorothea’s heart tremble without her knowing why at first, yelled from the other side of the room.

“Stop right there.” 

The voice tore at her heart, especially when she turned aside and noticed that not only had Edelgard let go of hers and Petra’s hands at some point, but now was standing in front of an army dressed in reds and blacks. An army that looked at them with victory and defiance, their numbers far greater than the students, professor and archbishop that were beside Dorothea.

Yet the class protested the most upon seeing their house leader and her retainer brandishing weapons against them even, her words ringing through the holy tomb and proclaiming war against religion, against what she called an assortment of false beliefs. It wasn’t surprising that a conflict soon began, inevitable as it was since those were two distinctly opposite forces clashing for their ideals on how the world should go on, what the future would hold in store for humanity.

Dorothea was lost, deaf to the professor’s orders as to where she should go and what she should do, letting Petra steer her away from particularly dangerous spots or places that offered some peril to her. And even when she did react and push back against soldiers who threatened one of the students, Thunders and Thorons cutting her palms and forming new scars over the old ones that were already there, it was her heart that bled the most with what was happening in front of her very eyes.

Their Edie stood as the emperor they had always known she would one day be, commanding Adrestian forces as if she had been forged to do so. The flames in her demeanor didn’t reach her eyes, though there was something like determination in them as well. However, the moment they passed over Dorothea and Petra there was nothing but sorrow, but unspoken words of apology and the silent plea that one day they might understand.

Nothing was louder than those moments, not even the grunts of pain and exertion, the clashes of steel on steel, the sizzle of spells running by them. Nothing rang truer or stroke at Dorothea more than seeing that, than finally having a glimpse of why Edelgard had gone away from her and Petra to begin with.

Why on that particular day Edelgard had gotten a little closer to them too, as if in memory of those old days.

As if the strange feeling in her eyes hadn’t only been an apology, but a farewell.

Dorothea knew that at some point or another she started crying out, weeping tears that blurred her vision and let her see with clarity. That showed her it had been useless to think she would ever find love to begin with, much less with two princesses that had seemed to cherish her. Now there she was, having to come to terms with the fact that it had been foolish to think otherwise. That it had been stupid to believe there was a sweet future in store for the three of them.

A feeling that was echoed in Petra’s entire demeanor, even if she neither wept nor expressed her emotions in any ways that didn’t involve her being a little more vicious, a little more careless on the battlefield. She danced away, dodged a little too late because she was much more focused on attacking, destroying the sadness and anguish inside of her as well as the Imperial soldiers which surrounded them.

Although neither Dorothea nor Petra would recall one thing about that battle, only the roaring thoughts in their minds and the darkness, the heaviness and goodbyes they saw in Edelgard’s lilac irises, they were well aware of the fact that the new emperor had never lifted a blade towards either of them. That if they had gotten wounded it was more out of their own inability to get out of an enemy’s weapon in self-defense than anything else. 

That the one thing which hurt and bled the most were their hearts from the moment Edelgard and Hubert were out of the tomb. A dull ache that couldn’t be healed by magic or the little time which passed between that attack and the invasion of Garreg Mach, which was announced by the archbishop and the professor to happen soon. 

When soon proved to be too soon, when they heard marching and were told to come and fight even if they had spent the last few days away from the world curled up together in bed, they thought they wouldn't withstand it. They thought that Edelgard, too, looked apprehensive, shattered, the shadows of Dorothea’s heart nothing but a fleeting presence when compared to the darkness on her face and eyes. 

That battle had ended with a sour taste in the back of their mouth, the Empire eventually winning even after it had looked like the monastery was able to emerge victorious from the siege. With the reserve troops and demonic beasts unleashed, a white dragon flying over Garreg Mach and the professor lost, the former students of the Black Eagles house disbanded into the territory that was now under war and would remain scattered for the years to come.

And even if Dorothea and Petra had stayed together through it all, hiding, fighting, helping others in need and helping each other through it all, it wasn’t the same than the fleeting, darkened memories of their days in Garreg Mach. Days in which there had been a third with them, a girl that had also smiled and laughed alongside them. That had cried silent tears after seeing the disaster in Remire. That had kissed and hugged them well into the morning, her nights restless and darker than they should be.

Nights that hadn’t become lighter no matter how much they had tried to do so. 

Nights that now passed with darker and darker feelings as the war waged on, taking over the continent and driving friends against each other, different views of the world and how it should keep on going battling for their own might. 

Nights that were spent in sweet reverie to ward off the bleakness of thought and the sadness of the heart, the bleeding that had never stopped. 

Until a particular night arrived, one that had been feared and expected for years and years due to a promise that was done in the last few days of light and love. A promise made between the Black Eagles students to return to the monastery in the Millenium Festival when the time had come. Now it finally did, the sky above them covered with clouds so there were no stars to guide them, no moon to shine down a path from the place Petra and Dorothea had hidden on their way back to the Oghma mountains where the earth tried touching the sky.

Where they once more reached out to hope and found it gone, when instead of a merry reunion in the Goddess Tower as promised, they were met with bandits to eliminate and a monastery to reclaim. Where there was indeed someone whom they hadn’t seen in a while, someone who they had thought was gone forever from their lives.

Yet the eyes that shone with a dull light once falling on their magenta and emerald ones were mint green instead of lilac, the colors jarring instead of harmonious, unbalancing, saddening even. 

Once the last thief was dealt with and the rest of the students had adjoined in the monastery grounds, the princess of Brigid and the former mythical songstress stole away from the Goddess Tower, the place in which they had looked over a different Garreg Mach one too many nights ago. It was empty, just as expected. Silent, just as they had wished their hearts to be when it came to her.

“She didn’t come,” Dorothea whispered, her voice warbling with a constellation of feelings in itself, the jumble of thoughts that had been a constant companion for the last few years. “I… I thought she might.”

“I had thought the very same,” Petra agreed with a small, forlorn smile, enveloping Dorothea in an embrace that attempted to give her the light that had never touched Edelgard no matter how much they tried.

She kept holding and solacing Dorothea for a few more minutes, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the tower that lacked a torch, the space where many had confessed and promised undying love now a witness to their sadness and the tears that fell from both of their eyes at that final certainty about how things would go.

It was so fast and sudden that if Petra weren’t sure she was completely awake in that moment, she would have questioned the validity of what she had seen. Yet there was no mistaking the flash of silver hair followed by red and gold garments as someone turned and moved from the shadows, fully going towards the darkness and never to emerge again.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year guys! I'm sorry for the angst ajgsdjhkf but I hope you enjoyed this in any case xD


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